Always Your Puppet
by AmayaKimikioHime
Summary: Story: Drocell's past-before Sebastian killed him.  *BEFORE YOU READ* This DOES contain my own chara,and NOT a pairing from the show-I just don't see him fitting too well w/any of the charas from the show,although I am NOT opposed to it.  Criticism-Welcom
1. And Then I Was Saved

Drocell Keinz had once been an ordinary citizen in London, England; that is up until when he was 16; his town had been pillaged, the women raped, children put into labour, and all the remaining people skewered by the invaders blades. He had worked as a child labourer for a year before he managed to escape-where the lovely lady Mandalay, found him in an alley, knees tucked into his chest in an attempt to quiet his gnawing hunger and irrevocably traumatic moment when he watched his parents die. Lady Mandalay, having a good soul, and in need of an extra servant at her home, took him with her, where he was sworn to a life of a butler.

When they arrived at her home, they were greeted by the servants-whom all stared at the small, shrivelled, pale mess of a man (?) in front of them. The most prim of the servants stepped forward, showing not a single speck of dirt on a snow white chef outfit. "And what is this, madame?" He asked, eyeing Drocell head to toe.

"This is a refugee from a child slave labour camp. Feed him, bathe him, clothe him, and train him-in that order. He will be our new butler."

The lot in front of the dirty, small boy turned their noses up, as though they had smelled a decaying body. "And it's name?"

Drocell acted as if he hadn't heard the word chosen to describe him. "Drocell Keinz." His voice cracked, for he hadn't spoken for a year, he'd decided a life of muteness was better than being beaten.

"At least we know it's a he," a small maid whispered to the chef.

Drocell felt his cheeks flush a flaming bright red, and he lowered his head in shame. A small, hour glassed figured girl stepped out in front of all the servants. "What's the crowd-" the girl stopped in front of him. "And just who are you?" She asked in a small, curious tone.

"Drocell, ma'am." He looked up to see a dark haired girl, with piercing blue eyes in front of him. Her skin was fair and flawless. She was frail, beautiful, and flawless enough to be an actress, and she had a porcelain fragility to her. She appeared not too much unlike a doll-a puppet-just as he was.

The girl walked up closer to him. "That's a nice name; I like it. What does it mean?" She gently touches his arm, causing him to flinch, not experiencing touches so gentle since his parent's deaths. "Oh, my; I'm sorry...did I hurt you?" the girl looks genuinely worried as she retreats her hand.

Drocell cautiously reaches for her. "Excuse me ma'am; I'm being rude. I haven't been touched in that fashion for over a year...my apologies; please forgive me."

As if on cue, the girl sees scars from whips, as well as bruises and recent wounds. She gently takes his hand, turning to the others. "Vince...go cook for him...Suzanne...go prepare his clothes and room..." She pauses in thought for a moment. "Actually, he'll share with me, until he is fully recovered and comfortable here." She leads him up the stairs to the large, white house that was obviously owned by important people. "I'll take care of you, until you're better...I won't let my mother train you as our butler yet...you aren't ready for it yet."

Drocell stopped unintentionally. Of course she was the Mandalay's daughter...he should have known by her clothing alone...and the tone she used with the servants... "I won't have it, miss. You are no maid-I'll survive, even by taking care of myself."

The girl smiles. "I want to help you, these servants are rude anyway." She gently tugs his arm. "Come now, we have to bather you." She looks back at him. "Does my hand bother you?" She lifts her eyes to his blush.

_Am I so obvious? _"No, miss. I am to do as told-if this is what you want, I must obide." _Not that I dislike it..._ "Please, may we go to the bathroom? I don't wish to offend...not in such a presence..." _I may be able to care of myself, but that's not what I want..._As though to clear his mind of his thoughts, he shakes his head with a small smile. "I can take care of myself, miss."

She pouts. "Don't call me that. No one does, except in front of mother."

He stands in shock. "Then what am I to call you?"

"My name is Amaya; it's nice to meet you, Drocell."

He bows. "The pleasure is mine."


	2. Lies In The Mirror

Amaya giggles in a singsong way. "I'm easy going...please don't go about bowing for me-I'm no better than you."

_This home alone says otherwise... _"Yes, Amaya-whatever you wish." He gets back into his regular slouched posture from working hard for a year. When they reach the bathroom, after what seems to be hours, Amaya follows him in.

"I want to tend to those wounds. Anything you don't want me to see can be hidden." She turns to get things together while preparing his bath. He, however, still stands with his ragged clothes on in the middle of the room.

"A-A-Amaya?" He asks, knotting his fingers together, then unlacing them, again and again. 

"Yes, Drocell?" She turns to looks at him.

"Why aren't you disgusted by me?" He stares at the honesty in the depths of the girl's eyes.

"It's not your fault you're like this. Why should I treat you differently?" She asks it not in an inquisitive way, but a concerned way.

Standing there uncomfortably, he begins to nervously rub his arm. "I'm only a slave, and now a butler in training..."

"You were once better though...and you're still a human, just like me." She smiles sweetly. "Now, get in your bath."

As he steps into the hot bath, she finishes finding everything to tend to his wounds. While he washes the layers of dirt, blood, scum, and other unidentified (and probably best to be left that way) things off, she rubs several ointments over wounds. When he's finished, the bathing water is a murky grayish brown, and it is visible that he is truly beautiful, when he's not covered in filth. Instead of deep reddish gray hair, he has bright orange, and he is still quiet pale from malnutrition, but his scars don't look so angry. "Thank you.." He says, as though this were something that could never be repaid.

"It's fine; you don't have to say a thing...this was nothing. I promise." She kisses his cheek gently. "I think we need to trim your hair a bit. It's grown quite long." She turns him toward a mirror, only for him to recoil.

"Don't...don't make me look ma'am...I'll do anything for you but that..."

"What? Do you not like mirrors? They won't hurt you...I won't hurt you...don't you trust me?" She looks up at him.

He drops his eyes to the floor, biting his lip as if to keep himself quiet, tracing his eyes along the pattern of the wood, concentrating on the knots in it. Finally, he reaches past the lump in his throat. "I-I-I look too much like them..." He whispers it, as though it were a sin to mention them.

"Like who?" She says it in a questioning, curious way.

"M-my parents..." His voice catches and he returns to the quiet manner he had been accustomed to.

"Well...where are they now?" When he's still deathly quiet, with his eyes concentrating on the floor, she seems to understand. "Oh..." She wraps him into her arms. "I'm sorry sweetie...I'm your family now though." She smooths his hair as if to comfort a young child, and he stands there unsure of what to do. "It'll be okay..." She whispers.

And for some reason, unbeknownst to the young boy, 17 years of age, feels the need to trust him.


	3. Inside of a Broken Soul

Once Amaya pulls away from him with a small smile, deciding he's okay now, Drocell feels a small twinge in his heart. And as she walks in front of him, a pit opens and in flows loneliness and sadness. "Come, Drocell. Let's go see your room. They should have clothes ready by now." She grabs his hand and leads him to another room that just happens to be on the upper floor. She opens the door to reveal a large bed, with dark stained wood, and the furniture in the room is the same colour of wood. "This is where you'll stay until you feel better."

He looks around in wonder, having been in a small room where 20-40 children slept on hay laid about in a careless mess on the cold floor. "It's beautiful, mistress..."

She smiles sweetly. "Thank you. Mother doesn't care for it too awfully much. It's nice to see it appreciated." She then rolls her eyes. "And, I told you not to act like I'm superior to you."

"Yes, ma'am. I apologise. I forgot." He lowers his head.

She comes and takes his arm, and sets him on the bed. "I'll go see where Suzanne is with your clothes...feel free to roam around." She smiles sweetly, taking her leave, where he stares at the dress flowing from her waist, and her hair waving behind her as she steps.

Once she's gone, he gets up and runs a finger along the stone wall, which he finds to be warm, rather than cold. "How...odd..." He runs a finger over a stone, only to find it flat. "Oh..." He says it in a voice of recognition...it was only paint. He then goes to the wardrobe, and opens it to find beautiful gowns in several colours and different styles. While gently sliding the other gowns aside to inspect a beautiful crimson red one with a plunging neckline, he finds an outfit that looks like it could be used to escape, or to even spy on someone. He then spies a mysterious looking drawer, and then reaches out to open it, knowing very well it could hold the secrets to explaining the outfit; but just before he can, the door opens, and he must act like he was looking at the dress.

"It's beautiful...isn't it?" Amaya asks, still standing in the doorway. "It's my dress from Romania...it's supposed to show off your figure. I plan on wearing it when I come into power of this place...or when I get engaged." She walks over to Drocell and runs a hand down the dress. "It's made from velvet...the torso of it anyway...the rest of it's silk..." She says it in a dreamy tone, as though she can't wait to wear it.

"Why not wear it now, milady? Why wait?" He asks in a curious tone.

"Because it's for a special occasion. It's supposed to be worn for the first time at a special occasion, and anytime after that is fine." She looks at it. "And so far, there's been nothing to wear it to."

He looks it up and down. "When are you to be engaged?"

"Whenever my parents decide I'm of age..."

He turns to her then. "And how old are you now?"

Sheepishly, she replies seventeen, knowing she should have been wed years ago, at the age of thirteen, actually.

"Can't you choose who you court now? They haven't found a suitor in over four years."

"And just who might be interested in a woman who's already begun to lose precious baby making time?"

_I would..._ "There are plenty out there ma'am..." He says it quietly, as if she might hear his thoughts.

"Like who?" She asks, crossing her arms defiantly, like she was right.

_Like me..._ He keeps silent, and finally she gets what he means, walks over to him, takes his face into her hands and kisses him, taking his bottom lip in between hers, gently nibbling on it.

* * *

><p>AN: This actually happened much faster than I'd hoped, but that's okay. Who wants to be dragged along through him being tortured by her beauty anyway? Not much to write about but that, it'd make for a dull story. :)


	4. Untouched

A/N: **CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT! I left the rating as is because this is the only *bad* part. Please be mature about it!**

* * *

><p>Drocell looks at Amaya in shock, filled with wonder. "I'm not..."<p>

"Oh shush. I want this." She kisses his neck again, pulling his robe off, as he wraps his arms around her back, gently pulling at the strings tying her dress up. Their kisses mash together and their tongues intertwine, as though it were all a race to the finish in a wrestling match.

She leads him backward onto the bed and climbs on top of him, and he begins to undress her as well.

When they awake in a few hours, they lay naked intertwined with one another. "Good morning." She chimes to him, kissing his cheek.

Looking down at her, he smiles, kissing her back. "Good morning." Feeling a bit of unusual touch of a sheet, he looked down to see a spot of red.

"Was it...?"

She smiles and nods. "And I enjoyed it...despite the pain."

He holds her close. "I...I didn't mean to...hurt you..."

She smiles, enjoying his embrace. "It's okay...honest."

Suzanne walks in, takes in the sight and squeaks in horror and astonishment. "_LADY AMAYA!_"

Amaya grabs a blanket and walks over to her, slapping her face. "Shush yourself, right now. You will speak to no one about this if you want to live. They'll kill us and you too."

Suzanne holds her cheek, tears running down her porcelain skin. "Yes, Amaya. No one will know." She holds out clothes to Amaya. "Here are the clothes you requested."

Amaya takes them, "Thank you, Suzanne. Come back when his food is ready, and remember to knock next time." She pushes her lightly out the door and shuts it behind her.

Drocell takes the clothes and dresses. "I'm sorry about this..."

She shrugs. "No big deal. I didn't expect her to come in like that though. But it's okay." She kisses his forehead. "Don't worry about it too much."


	5. Everything I'm Not

"_VINCE!_" Suzanne ran into the kitchen, not watching she was going, and ran into him.

He grabs her arm and helps her up. "Calm down, Suzanne." After he had her calmed down a bit, at least enough to get a coherent sentence out of her, he asked, "What's this all about?"

"_DROCELL AND AMAYA...T-T-T-THEY SLEPT TOGETHER!_" She managed to stammer out.

He drops the pan he was holding, and as it slaps against the floor with a loud toll, food flies everywhere. "They _what?_"

"I walked in to give him his clothes...and, and, they were entwined together like a pretzel, stark naked!" She gasps, and continues, praying for herself. "Lord, help me. She told me not to tell anyone. Now Lady Amaya, and Drocell are going to die. And me too! Oh Vince, you can't tell anyone. She made it very clear that I couldn't tell anyone, but I betrayed her just by telling you...oh, please, Vince, what am I to do?" She covers her face and sobs.

He envelopes her into his arms. "There, there. You have to go tell Master and Mistress Mandalay though, Suzanne. If they find out later about this, and that you knew, you're for sure going to die." He smooths her hair. "I'll go with you, even."

"No, Vince, I can't. Lady Amaya already hit me for seeing and yelling..."

He pulls her away. "She did what?"

"She slapped me." She was still holding her face when she'd ran into the kitchen, so he hadn't seen the mark, but now he could see a red imprint of a feminine hand on Suzanne's cheek.

He pulls her behind him. "Come on, Mistress Mandalay won't stand for this."

She resists against him, pulling against him, up until they're half way to their destination, and he is still determined to go tell their masters.

When they arrive, Vince knocks on the door, and a booming male voice beckons them inside the throne room.

"Milord, milady, Suzanne needs to tell you something." He pushes her forward gently, and she shakes her head. "What is it?" He whispers.

"I can't do that to Lady Amaya..." She whispers back, beginning to tremble.

"Well I can." He steps forward. "It appears, I'll have to tell you. Our new butler Drocell slept with your daughter Amaya. When Suzanne walked in, they were naked in bed together, entwined together, and Amaya slapped her for walking in on them, telling her to keep this all a secret."

The couple looked at each other. "And how do you know this then? Have you any evidence?"

"She told me, and she has the red mark of a feminine hand upon her cheek; need you have a look?"

Lady Mandalay is the one to get up, and she takes the young maid's chin in her hand, turning her head from side to side, inspecting the small swelling and red mark, that was now turning into a small bruise. She turns back to her husband. "The hand print is there, my love."

He gets up in a powerful manner, coming to a full six and a half feet. "Then a punishment is due."

He comes next to his wife, inspecting the maid's cheek as well. When it is obvious, he walks out of the room, and Lady Mandalay, with her soft brown hair falling out of it's French twist, follows close behind him, as they head to their daughter's room.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm so sad to see this turn to tragedy. *shrugs*


	6. Just Shut Up, Shut Up

Lady and Lord Mandalay barge into their daughter's room, and before Amaya can see who it is, she yells, "I thought I told you to knock?"

"I didn't think I had to knock on a disobedient, filthy daughter's door."

Amaya looks up from Drocell to see her father standing in her doorway, arms crossed in disappointment, and her mother staring in horror. "And just what am I supposed to do when my parents refuse to find me a suitor?"

"Did you ever think this was the exact reason why?" He looks down at his daughter in shame, despite her being covered.

Amaya averts her eyes away from her father, not wanting to see his shame and disappointment in her.

Her father grabs Drocell's arm and drags him off the bed and away from his daughter. Amaya jumps up and runs after Drocell, only to be cut off by Suzanne, her mom, and Vince. "_Drocell!_"

Knowing yelling back would mean a crueler punishment, Drocell goes back to his silent treatment.

"How dare you touch my daughter! That was not your place, slave!" A hard palm comes down upon Drocell's cheek. "You will learn, boy. I'll make sure you're well taken care of." Drocell continues to be silent while the man drags him, and this angers Mandalay even more. "What? Too ashamed to speak?" When he's still silent, he says, "You weren't too ashamed to speak to my daughter, I'm sure. You got her into bed so easily; you must be a smooth talker. What did you promise her, slave? Riches? Love? Marriage?" He scoffs and laughs at the sheer funniness of the idea of that.

"I promised her nothing. Your daughter chose to sleep with me on her own free will." Realizing he'd said the wrong thing, he bites his lip.

"My daughter is easily influenced. What did you say to her?" When there is no response, he claims Drocell is the devil, and is to be sent to the basement, while he comes up with an idea of what his punishment would be.


	7. I Would Die For You

While Drocell is in the basement, being watched by guards, Lord Mandalay decides to torture him and condemn his soul to hell. He carries out his demands through professional torturers; and within moments of their arrival to Mandalay's home, they make their way to the basement.

When Drocell looks up to see the torturers, he gives a small smile; he was already condemned to hell thanks to the child labour camp, so, he had come to accept his punishment, and embraced it with open arms, so he could be with his parents once more.

The guards let him out of his prison, and lead him to another room where a long table is set up, and around the room, there are torture devices hung up. He smiles a little sadistically, and takes his place on the table, allowing himself to be strapped in. The torturers go over to the wall, picking their choice of weapon. One chooses to wield a bullwhip that happens to have metal fragments on the strands, while the other chooses a spiked mouth gag. They walk over to Drocell, and before putting the gag on, ask him if he wants to say anything. He shakes his head, and disappointed, they ask what he did to make the Mandalay's so upset.

Drocell smirks. "I have done nothing, you see? It is all part of their plan to keep their daughter here forever, while she rots in slow hate for them." He laughs maniacally, already having lost half of his mind, if not more.

The torturers look at each other, and put the gag on him. He does not wince or do any of the things he should have done, like a normal, sane human being. They begin to slap the whip against his bare chest, causing deep wounds to open, and blood to splatter across his chest, the table, the room, and the tortures; and when it looks like he's crying, they look at his eyes, only to find them dry, and a small laughter was escaping from the gag. Blinking, they ask themselves what's wrong with this kid, for he should have already been unconscious from the loss of blood and pain from the whip...but instead, this kid was _laughing, _actually _laughing_.

When they decide the whip isn't enough, they get out knives, and begin to cut him open in haphazardly ways, and when he's still laughing, they put him in the "chair of torture" where most victims die from being slowly impaled. Still, he laughs, and becomes pale from loss of blood. They remove the gag, deciding it wasn't doing much, and with a painfully strained voice, he breathes, "Finally, reunited with my family."

A shaggy, black haired shinigami then appears, and looks at the suffering soul of Drocell Keinz. "You poor thing, let me relieve you of this pain now." And he clips Drocell's life line and he falls limp.

The torturers are then ordered to make his body into that of a puppet's, and they obey.

* * *

><p>AN: Truth be told, I'm sad to see Drocell go...but...it had to happen. :c


End file.
